


Aftershocks

by orphan_account



Category: American Vandal (TV)
Genre: College, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Tense, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 02, Set 1 year after Season 2, irregular updates, oblivious idiots, ”Platonic” Bed Sharing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-09 08:07:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17403203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When someone from their past resurfaces, Peter and Sam want to know her story, even at the expense of finally admitting their feelings for each other.





	Aftershocks

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I just finished rewatching s1 (and watching s2 for the first time) and felt like writing for these two nerds. 
> 
> I know this chapter is very short, so you should probably think of it more as a setup/prologue kind of thing. 
> 
> Not sure how long the fic will be, so you’ll find out when I find out I suppose.

The day Sam’s life became a drama again didn’t seem unusual at first. It was a standard Saturday night in the middle of January, meaning he and Peter were holed up in their dorm room, avoiding the nightlife and scrolling through their feeds aimlessly. Dinner wasn’t ramen, because Peter was pretentious sometimes and insisted that they would _not_ be a meme personified, thank you very much. Instead, they’d settled on a super-size bag of Doritos, which now rested between them on the bed. For hours, the only sound or movement from either of them came from the crinkling of the bag.

Then, Peter suddenly scrambled upright against the headboard, knocking his teddy bear right into Sam’s face and rudely jolting him out of his half-asleep stupor. Before Sam could even turn his head to grumble at him, Peter was reaching over and fast-tapping his arm to get his attention.

“Dude, you have to see this.” His voice was urgent.

 _This again_. “Yeah, yeah.” Sam pushed the teddy bear off him and looked back down at his phone, uninterested. Peter was always finding things he _had_ to see, and it was usually an ancient cat video on YouTube, or yet another Vine compilation of the same fifty Vines they’d all seen by now. For someone so adept at other technology-related areas like editing, Peter was simultaneously worse than Sam’s grandma after she first discovered group texting. In other words, pretty damn annoying.

And if it wasn’t stupid videos, it was “case potentials” that, frankly, sucked. Ever since Netflix cancelled American Vandal, the only people who contacted them were a) morons who actually had done their school’s dick-or-shit equivalent and anyone with a brain could see it, yet they “hoped the AV guys could prove their innocence”, or b) literally insane conspiracy theorists talking about lizard people controlling the government. 

The world had simply forgotten about the show as fast as they’d fallen in love with it.

Sam hated opening his inbox now, and usually avoided it all costs. It was a far cry from the time when he’d loved the attention. It had made him feel important. Like he and Peter were making a difference. 

That was gone now, and he’d long since accepted it.

Peter, on the other hand, couldn’t let go. He was always hyper-focused on the next case which they both knew was never going to come. It was pitiful, to be honest. Sam knew he was enabling him by not saying anything, but he couldn’t bring himself to crush his dreams.

Peter tried again, which to Sam basically confirmed this was about American Vandal. “No, really, Sam, _you have to see this _. Now.”__

__Sam barely suppressed an eye roll. “Mhm. Send me the link, ’kay?”_ _

__“Can you just shut up and—” Sam looked at him, surprised by the anger in his voice. Peter sighed, deflating, and gestured to his phone. “Sorry. It’s just, I can’t link it because it’s on Snap and you _know_ there’s only one replay!”_ _

“Fine,” Sam conceded. _If only to make you happy because the obsession is hurting me to watch_. He shifted left until their bodies were touching from shoulder to hip, leaning in over Peter’s shoulder to look at the small screen (the idiot still had an iPhone 6). Gingerly, he took one ear of Peter’s headset and put it in. 

__Peter grinned and nodded, upsettingly relieved that Sam was indulging him. He held down on the open purple square, beside the name “Madison ❤️ ” — Sam curled his lip; why the hell was he still talking to her, anyway? The square filled up entirely purple and expanded into the video. “Look who just showed up,” said Madison’s voice._ _

__The video was captioned “She SNAPPED! 👀”_ _

__It took Sam’s eyes a moment to focus—Madison was clearly on the move, and it was dark as hell on top of that. Didn’t people know by now not to film in portrait mode?_ _

But when the video evened out, it was pretty obvious who, exactly, had “snapped.” Madison had trained her phone on the back profile of a short, blonde, vaguely familiar-looking girl standing on the doorstep of a nearby building. Clearly drunk out of her mind if her rat’s nest of hair and slurred voice were anything to go by, she was gesticulating wildly in an older woman’s face. The other woman simply looked unimpressed, her arms folded across her chest and her mouth drawn into a thin line.

“—and fuck you and your stupid _rules_ ,” the girl shouted. She stepped back with a scoff and looked around at the crowd of people now clustered around. “You know what? Fuck _all_ of you! You think you can kick _me_ out?” 

“Yes,” said the woman simply.

The girl’s focus shot back to her. “You can’t just—!”

“I can.” She glanced over the girl’s head and addressed two burly campus policemen who had walked up behind her. “It’s her.”

__The bigger of the two nodded in acknowledgement. He pulled her arm, saying, “Let’s go”, but the girl jerked away violently as soon as he touched her, screeching, “I will not!” After a few more seconds’ struggle, he hoisted her up and started carrying her away from the older woman, unaffected by her kicking and squirming. But in her fury, the girl continued to struggle, her face contorted as she hurled desperate threats at the woman. “You’ll regret this! You’ll regret it!”_ _

As they passed closer to Madison on their way across the green, the girl’s facial features became clear for the first time as they were thrown into the orange glow of the streetlamps. Sam’s eyes widened as he connected the dots.

__There was no mistaking that bob of hair and shrill voice. After all, how many times had he seen her in high school when he was an underclassman? How many times had he stared at her yearbook picture on their theories board? How many times had he heard her voice when they pored over the footage?_ _

__“Oh my god, that’s…”_ _

__“Christa freakin’ Carlyle,” Peter supplied unnecessarily. The corner of his mouth twitched in a sort of vicious, uncharacteristic satisfaction. “How the mighty have fallen.”_ _

“Yeah,” Sam said absently. He stared, unseeing, at the phone. Maybe Peter’s crusade still had some life left in it. There was certainly a story to tell here.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for ending it like that, but like I said, this is an intro sort of chapter.
> 
> Since American Vandal is such a social media focused show, I’m glad the Archive now allows emojis lol. I don’t know if they’ll annoy people, but I think it gives it an extra layer of genuinity.
> 
> Also, the Madison thing is basically irrelevant. For plot reasons, Peter just needed to have an ex who would be smart enough to be at the same college as Christa.  
> Anyway, kudos and comments are always appreciated!


End file.
